


Requited Desires

by Hatsage7



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Hypnotism, Other, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsage7/pseuds/Hatsage7
Summary: Priscilla's tail is very very fluffy (just like this fic, lmao). That's not such a bad thing for the Chosen Undead.





	Requited Desires

As the Chosen Undead, you had encountered a number of extremely odd and extremely dangerous occurrences on your journey, and more often than not, things that were strange and life-threatening in equal measure. Things you would never had expected to see before the curse of undeath were suddenly small parts of a much grander adventure -- a crow the size of a house, demons from myth and legend, winding passages through poisonous or fiery hells -- even a *painfully* real fire-breathing drake!

Foolishly, you had hoped that once you found yourself in Anor Londo, home of the gods, now occupied only by lordless knights and strange imps, you would have a capstone for which to compare all other experiences to... and then you had found the painting.

The painting, guarded by a number of guards (or perhaps cultists) who were all surprisingly easy to defeat, called to you. It had beckoned you to touch it, and naturally, once you did, it pulled you into a realm even more decrepit and decayed than Lordran.

"Cancerous" was the only word that seemed to fit. The Hollows were even more sickening than usual, the harpies that attacked you molted feathers from their wretched, naked bodies, what strongly resembled *literal* tumors congregated in a phalanx in one courtyard, resilient and always ready to attack you. The dragon and the blood-red shade of a king that attacked you summarized the painted world perfectly: powerful, but ruined with sickening blight. It had taken nothing less than all of your skill and focus, jealously hoarding your few consumables, to finally make it to what could only be the tower for the ruler of this horrid land.

The soft white snow had settled on the stone ramparts. Looking down, you could see at least three sets of footprints, with a fourth one of significantly greater size. You sighed, shrugged your shield off your back and drew your sword, walking into the obvious ambush.

As expected, arrows began to fly at you as you made your way across, deflected by your steel shield with a sharp pinging noise. The dessicated creatures firing the bows were slow and clumsy, barely a threat at all. The pathetic attempts at subterfuge were easily countered, the first sword-wielding Hollow being so slow that you slayed it before it, or even it’s partnered archer, could attack you.

A moment’s rest and you were charging down the aisle, leaping through the air to split the second and final archer in two. As its body hit the ground and its souls entered your body, another group of undead clambered over the sides, moving in haste as reparation for missing their cue. Far too late for you to be distracted, you allowed all four of them to get on their feet and approach you, cutting down them all in a single two-handed stroke of your sword.

You sighed, rolling back your shoulders. Such tricks had not killed you for quite some time, and especially not with such weak enemies as these. You wondered if there wasn’t --

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

If there wasn’t a more formidable enemy waiting for you.

You turned away from the cooling corpses and back towards the other end of the rampart. Just in front of the fog door was a large knight, donned in shining armor and equipped with well-kept arms. He was plodding towards you, slowly but surely advancing to strike you down.

This was remarkable for a few reasons, both seeing a fresh, vivacious opponent with such sterling gear… and that this was clearly one of the knights from Anor Londo. The first creature you’ve seen clearly from your own world.

“Hn.” The low growl was all you were prepared to offer as a comment on the mystery, and still more than the Heavy Knight offered in response, other than continuing to drift in your direction at a glacial speed.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

You paused for a moment, considering your options. If there was one thing you had learned from all of your varied encounters with knights of this manner, it was that one could never be *too* comfortable whilst fighting them. Additionally, though you could surely defeat this warrior, would you be able to do it without consuming one of your precious Estus Flasks (or more than one, gods forbid)?

_Thud. Thud. THUD._

Well, when in doubt -- simpler was better.

You sheathed your sword and shield, pulling out a bag of sizable objects, each a little larger than a fist. You pulled one out, tossing it up and down slightly to remind yourself of its weight.

_THUD. THUD. THUD._

_FWOOSH._

The firebomb split on contact with the knight’s shield, the large, polished hunk of metal failing to protect him from the intense heat and flames. Another firebomb, this one striking him squarely on the chest and eliciting a loud roar of pain. You rolled backwards, avoiding the slow but devastating swing that the knight launched at you. Another few steps back gave you the room you needed to draw your bow, ending this dishonorable combat with several well-placed arrows, the other warrior too weak or too enraged to block with his shield. In moments, he collapsed to the ground, defeated and lifeless.

Slow and sloppy, and you had used two very valuable firebombs… but it mattered not. Your other supplies were near as low, and if you couldn’t defeat the final guardian of this realm on your first try… perhaps you never would.

You shivered, and certainly not at the cold. With that thought in mind, you stepped over the burnt carcass of the Heavy Knight, placed your hand on the wall of fog, and stepped through it. As expected, there was indeed an impressive foe on the other side… though not quite the foe you were expecting. She was indeed, gigantic, easily twice his height and wielding a comparably large scythe…

...but she was also a “she”.

“Hmm.” You let out an appreciative noise as you appraised the enemy in front of you, taking in the wonderful white fur of her dress, the piercing yellow gaze of her eyes, and the long fluffy white tail, pooling like water around her feet.

“Who art thou? One of us, thou art not.” She stepped to the side, gesturing towards the other end of the arena. “If thou hast misstepped into this world, plunge down from the plank, and hurry home. If thou seekest I, thine desires shall be requited not.”

You took a moment to think about your situation. Obviously, you’d like to leave such a wretched place… and yet. Here was a being able and willing to speak with you (at least to some extent). You walked up to her slowly, holding your hands up far away from your weapons.

After a few moments of silence, the being knelt down, apparently sensing your desire to speak further. “Thou must returneth whence thou came. This land is peaceful, its inhabitants kind, but thou dost not belong.”

You scoffed audibly at her comment. Peaceful? *Kind*? Not a single creature in this world was either, save for the one you were talking to now.

Again, seemingly sensing your disdain, she stood up stiffly. “I have no wish to debate with thou, undead. Thou shalt leave at once, or suffer the consequences.”

“Please,” you managed to croak out, voice raw and hoarse from so much time spent in undeath. You didn’t like to speak, but if it meant actually having a dialogue, making a new ally… “Want to… talk. Questions. Advice. Need… rest before… retur-- returning.” Your voice cracked, and blood entered your mouth. “Y-your… name?”

Her face softened as you spoke, seeing you clearly struggle to get the words out. “Strain thyself not, I beseech thee. Rest, for as long as thou needest, and perhaps thine questions shall be answered.” She gestured to the ground, indicating for you to sit. You happily obliged, removing your helmet to clear your throat and sip from your (mostly perfunctory) waterskin.

“I am the lady Priscilla. The nature of this land is… complicated, to say the least. Thou is not like to comprehend, nor do I desirest to speak. It... pains me to reflect on the past. Thou must understand.”

“Mm-hm.” You wiped the water from your chin, thinking for a moment. “Undeath. Here?”

She sighed. “It… has not gone unnoticed. Corruption doth plague this land. It creepest in century after century… I cannot fight it, not meaningfully. Certainly, not without… without…” She sighs, sitting down and tucking her legs up against her chest.

“Hard to fight subjects, friends. H-harder to kill. N-not worth it.” You coughed, running your throat ragged. “You… leave?”

“Leave? No, no. Anor Londo is… not fit for such as me. Pray tell, is *anywhere* in thy world so much better than here?”

You shook your head, without even a moment’s hesitation. “World… bad. Broken. People are good. F-friends. G-genuinely k-kind and g-giving souls. C-could use g-guidance from --”

Priscilla held up a hand to cut you off. “Please, traveler. Thou needest rest. Do not speak, or worry thy troubled mind.” She leaned forward, her head dipping down low enough for you to comfortably look into her eyes, though she was still quite a ways above your own head. “I hath no doubt -- thy world is just as flawed as this one. The horrors thou must have seen… terrible. Truly terrible.”

Her tail slowly moved towards you as she spoke. She was… embracing you? You might have protested, but your throat hurt, and she had asked you not to speak. The fluff on her tail was… nice. Soft and warm, like… like a furry blanket. You decided not to struggle, not when this felt so nice.

“Thou art hurt -- hurt by the inhabitants of my land, by this… wretched curse that keepest thou from dying. Too much for any mortal to bear. Thou deserves… kindness, dost thou not?”

Did you? It… it made so much sense when she said it. Still… she was… clearly trying to change the topic. You shifted slightly, wanting to continue the conversation --

Her gigantic finger gently tilted up your chin, turning your attention from being wrapped up in her tail… to staring deeply into her eyes. They were so… *big*. That shade of golden-yellow, the draconic dilation of her slitted pupils… you felt as if you could just keep staring into them forever.

"Thou needst not struggle. You are safe here, with me. So far away from the other inhabitants… nothing can harm you here."

You nodded, finding yourself agreeing with her more and more as she spoke. Nothing could hurt you here… not when you were so safe... so warm. For the first time in… weeks? Months? You allowed yourself to relax, dropping your guard and allowing Priscilla's tail to hold you. It had coiled around nearly your entire torso, inching ever higher to tickle your neck and chin.

"Before this world was created for me, I lived very briefly in Anor Londo itself. Even as a youth, my magical strength was formidable. My… heritage granted me a number of abilities, foremost among them mine eyes." She laid down, eyes now level with yours. You wanted to reach out and pet her soft, white hair, but your arms were wrapped underneath her lovely tail, and you wouldn't dare be released from that for anything.

"Mortals could never resist my eyes, you see," Priscilla continued, her finger now carefully petting your head instead of holding your chin. "Some sort of magic or magnetism… they were so susceptible, but I merely thought them friendly. Many a man and woman would I take back home, accidentally ensnaring them for days at a time or more, 'till my friend and guardian corrected my behavior. Even so, some would seek me out, the "Crossbreed Seductress"... hoping vainly that I might requite their desires."

You let out a soft moan. Priscilla had tightened her grip as she spoke, her soft tail applying firm enough pressure to make you feel light-headed. It was… quite pleasant, teetering in that way on the edge of unconsciousness, vision and mind dominated by her gaze.

She noticed, and disappointingly withdrew her tail altogether. "Ah, my apologies, traveler. I suppose my reasoning was… thou didst not come here for violence, nor for me. Thou deserves a reward, surely?"

Oh, a question… in your haze, you mindlessly nodded along, agreeing with her out of habit and instinct.

"Then, please… thou art invited to stay with me. As long as thou wish. Healing and rest… that is all I can givest thou. I hope it is enough. If thou wouldst… prefer to stay… by all means, doff thy arms and armor, and submit to thy desires~."

The unmistakable invitation in her voice was enough to send you over the edge. Piece by piece, you took off your armor, the collected items and spare equipment that you had acquired, even your sword and shield. Before long, you were wearing only your cotton clothing shirt and pants, soiled with sweat from being worn under so many layers.

Priscilla smiled as her tail enveloped you once more, this time winding fully around your body, from your feet to your chin. "Ahh, this is truly wonderful~. No longer will thou be forced to experience hardship, or violence… just *bliss* until thou tires of such happiness. And I shall be beside thou, a true friend!" Priscilla smiled even wider, demeanor totally changed now that you had decided to come with her. You gave her a smile in return, melting like snow as she lifted you up, cocooned in her downy fluff. With so much more if your skin exposed, enveloped by the lovely, white fur… it was heavenly… and getting harder and harder to stay awake.

"Rest, undead, rest. Thy turbulent journey hath reached its end… thou may finally *sleep."

And so you feel, deeply and soundly, cradled by your new friend for the first of many times to come.

**Author's Note:**

> listen, listen  
I like hypno. I like Priscilla. Best waifu, don't @ me
> 
> (real content in like, a week tips, stg)


End file.
